


better than I ever even knew

by marina_rocher



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Domesticity, Fluff, M/M, the classic phil's absent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 10:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13949418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marina_rocher/pseuds/marina_rocher
Summary: Before Phil, Dan was pretty sure he could only exist alone.





	better than I ever even knew

Before Phil, Dan was pretty sure he could only exist alone. A dark quiet room. A blinding computer screen, his favourite music or an electric keyboard to keep him a company. Occasional trips to the bathroom and kitchen for another bowl of cereal. If there was any chance to move to some distant island and live in an abandoned lighthouse, he would take it in an instant. Before, he was naive, and young, and dreamed of a simple life without other people to distract him from his thoughts. Dreaming didn’t hurt.

But that was before Phil.

It’s not that Phil is so wonderful and Dan is so hopelessly in love that he can bite his tongue and tolerate his constant unavoidable presence. It’s not that loving Phil made Dan a different person. It’s something else.

“Hey, can I take your charger?”

Phil’s voice is soft when he puts his laptop down and looks up at Dan.

“Sure.”

How wasn’t this distracting?

On the train station, where they first hugged and laughed and blushed seeing and absorbing each other for the first time, Dan knew it would be like nothing else. Something entirely different. Phil was touchy, his hands light but demanding, his body always warm and hovering by Dan’s side, both to feel Dan close and let Dan feel him. Dan allowed him that. Allowed him everything without a second thought.

How was that suddenly okay?

He knew he should be careful. Phil was older, and so much cooler, and it seemed like even taller than Dan. But he was also shy and insanely easy to be around.

“Wait, there’s something in your hair.”

Phil reached out, and Dan stopped breathing for a second.

“What was it?”

Phil’s face was dark in the dimly lit cabin of the Manchester Eye.

“Nothing. I just wanted an excuse to touch you.”

Dan knew he was gonna do something crazy. His hand cupped Phil’s cheek and his closed the distance between their mouths.

 

“You know I don’t like being in a quiet apartment.”

It’s not his way of saying “please, Phil, come back sooner, I’m fucking dying here alone, unable to cope with separation anxiety.” It’s just natural to share. He doesn’t want to hide his frustration from Phil. And he knows Phil understands.

“Did you lit up that crackling candle?”

“Woodwick one, yeah.”

He’s obsessed with big candles recently, he wants to finish them all and use the pretty jars for candy or something. He’s not sure yet.

“It’s not about the silence, really,” Dan tries to explain. “I like _your_ noises.”

It’s a weird confession to make, but they both laugh at how it sounds.

“I know,” says Phil.

Phil is loud and clumsy. He likes turning the TV on and starts walking around the flat, putting the stuff in its places, drying the dishes, TV just a faint sound from another room. Strangely, the sounds of his shuffling steps mingled with the commercials and bangs of the cabinet doors don’t bother Dan. He does put the noise canceling headphones on sometimes when every little thing seems to distract him and make longing for an escape to the nearest secluded cave. But most of the times, he enjoys it.

Perhaps, it reminds him of school holidays. The house slowly waking up, people passing the door to his room. He could lie like that for hours, undisturbed, basking in the morning sun, with no responsibilities hanging over his head, enjoying his well-deserved rest. Any moment he could get up and go to the kitchen where something delicious was already waiting for him on the table.

It’s often like that with Phil. It’s not like Phil is his caretaker, no. There are times when Phil is so engrossed in his book or a video game, that Dan tries to lure him out with the smells, brews coffee and leaves the oven door open for a bit too long. Phil’s also not a big fan of deep cleaning: putting on the gloves and scrubbing the sinks, taking out the fridge contents and washing all the shelves and containers.

“Okay, but vacuuming is on you,” Dan usually says while unloading groceries on the kitchen isle.

They work perfectly like that.

It’s just that Dan likes seeing that someone is always there to catch him. Especially in the tiniest things. Especially in reminding of the beauty of simple routines.

“Did you water the plants?”

“You’ll be home tomorrow and can water them then.”

“Yeah, but I forgot to do it before I left.”

“Okay, okay.”

He moves through the rooms with a watering can and a phone in his hand, nodding and humming to Phil’s stories. Phil’s voice is creaky thanks to the shitty Internet connection and it bounces off the walls in their silent rooms.

“What are you having for dinner?”

“I already had it.”

“It’s only six.”

Dan shrugs.

“I know, I was bored so I cooked.”

“You’ll need another snack before going to bed. Have some milk. A banana. Bananas help you sleep, you know?”

“Yeah, mum.”

Quiet. So quiet. Music doesn’t help. When he’s alone, music is almost like an air freshener - it masks the odors, keeps them hidden, but not really. You always know someone did the number two, even if you smell cherry blossom.

“You should tweet that”, laughs Phil.

“Yeah, and sound desperate. They know you’re up north.”

He remembers waking up in their first place together. There was always a place where he needed to return to. Reading, or a university campus. Phil’s bed was always Phil’s. Phil’s place was always Phil’s. Until he first opened his eyes to the domestic sounds that were now _theirs_. Well, those sounds belonged to Phil, the water running as he brushed his teeth, the bathroom door opening and closing as he went to the kitchen to make coffee. What would Dan do if he woke up alone, in his own private place? It didn’t feel right. Having Phil by his side did feel right though.

“I wanna meet you at the airport.” He never does that. Phil sees his parents often, and Dan is always waiting for him with something delicious, and wine, and maybe a blowjob in the hallway. But staying home for an extra hour, lying on the sofa and scrolling through Twitter with his legs hanging over the edge... That just feels sad.

“Okay. Don’t forget to print out my name.” Phil teases and Dan gives in, smiling at his silly face.

“You think I won’t do it?”

“I don’t know, will you?”

“I might.” He’s pretty sure he won’t. But it’s nice to tease each other.

Maybe he won’t be waiting for Phil in the crowd, won’t be searching for his slumped posture and a dreamy absent look on his face. Maybe he’ll be waiting for him in an Uber on the airport parking lot, eager to take Phil's cold hands in his on the ride home, bring him some cocoa in a thermos just because he’s so extra and missed this man so much.

“See you tomorrow.”

Phil yawns. “See you. Good night. Don’t go to bed hungry.”

Dan’s chest goes big and warm. “Sure.”  



End file.
